A newly-arrived Los Angeles transplant takes part in a no-refunds-provided spiritual journey.

Quickly disposing of our corporate Starbucks coffee cups in fear of being judged by hemp-loving, incense-burning, damn-the-Man hippies, we walked into the Manhattan Beach Marriott. The room was markedly less Marriott than anticipated: an ambiance that consisted of a 30-chair circle and a maraca rattling, rain stick thrusting, and indigenous Amazonian drum pounding ditty awaited us…

Read more about my shamanic journey HERE My Predestined Date with Shamanism | Prose Before Hos)

A newly-arrived Los Angeles transplant takes part in a no-refunds-provided spiritual journey.

Quickly disposing of our corporate Starbucks coffee cups in fear of being judged by hemp-loving, incense-burning, damn-the-Man hippies, we walked into the Manhattan Beach Marriott. The room was markedly less Marriott than anticipated: an ambiance that consisted of a 30-chair circle and a maraca rattling, rain stick thrusting, and indigenous Amazonian drum pounding ditty awaited us…

Read more about my shamanic journey HEREĀ My Predestined Date with Shamanism | Prose Before Hos)